After

The first meeting of the year with the whole, if paltry, staff of Hogwarts was set for the 18th of August at exactly 4 pm. At 3:26, the exhausted Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout returned from giving their depositions to the ministry task force which had been set up to investigate the war and the events of the final battle. Without a word they separated in the entrance hall towards the respective offices and in exactly 29 minutes met at the top of the main staircase and silently started down the hall toward the staff room. They appeared in the staff room at exactly 3:59 and found that they were the first ones in. 

“Merlin, this is going well,” Minerva complained. 

Just as the door closed behind them it opened again and the three of them spun around to see the newest addition to staff, Professor Astoria Richter. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I’ve never been to the staff room before and I got a little lost on the sixth floor and…” She cut off her excuses when she realised it was only the three of them. “Oh, am I early?”

Pomona checked Minerva’s watch and answered, “No, you’re right on time actually.” 

“Which apparently puts you ahead of the learning curve,” Filius said sardonically, which is unusual. All three of them were in sour moods but his was most noticeably out of character.

“Oh, well, that’s something at least,” Astoria said, still catching her breath, she smiled and tried to lighten the mood, “I do sort of regret running in the corridors now, though.” 

Minerva cracked an almost imperceptible smile and reassured, “Hogwarts confuses everyone at first, you’ll get the knack of navigating it soon enough.” She turned to the table and dropped a stack of parchment in a spot on the side of the table. 

“Not your spot, Minerva,” both Sprout and Flitwick reminded simultaneously in flat voices- as if they’d had to say it about 400 times already.

“Why do I keep doing that?” Minerva asked rhetorically, moving only about half a meter to the right around the corner of the table.

“Habit,” They simultaneously responded, sitting in the spot she had vacated and the one directly across the table.

Astoria was caught somewhere between laughter and concern. Were they always like this? She realised she was still hanging by the door when it opened again to admit Professors Vector and Sinistra, followed by Madam Pomfrey. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Aurora said calmly, passing by Astoria and taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. 

“Somebody decided they would get into the thick of potion-making right before the meeting,” Septimia said, gesturing at Poppy, who gave a sort of apologetic smile. 

“But the good news is that we have a fully stocked Hospital wing,” Poppy said proudly as Madam Hooch appeared in the doorway and strode past her to sit beside Aurora.

“Good, save your bragging for when the rest of the staff gets here,” Minerva replied as Septimia sank into a chair in the middle of the table. 

Poppy, who seemed the most awake of anyone in the room, didn’t pass by Astoria as if she weren’t there but leaned in and said softly, “You can sit anywhere you want, except my spot.” 

Astoria looked at her, a little helpless and out of her depth in a room full of people who used to be her professors, and realised she was joking. “I’m sorry, I’m being terribly awkward, I’m not usually like this.” 

“It’s not easy to adapt to living among the elderly, everyone is so set in their ways.” Poppy joked at the expense of everyone else in the room, herself included as she settled in beside Septimia. 

The rest of the professors gave her a look. “That’s just rude, young lady,” Pomona chastised jokingly, leaning forward to shoot her a look down the table. “True, but rude.” 

Astoria went around the table and tried to be a little more personable, when she asked, “Who am going to upset if I sit here?” She had unknowingly stopped behind the chair which had, for so many meetings, been Severus’s spot.

“Me,” Minerva said, shaking her head, answering the confused looks from her colleagues with, “I’m going to make whoever is last in the room sit there. As punishment.” Astoria, confused but unwilling to argue, moved a chair over and Minerva nodded, “Much better.” 

Astoria tried not to laugh too much as she sat down across from Septimia and Poppy. They smiled back at her and rolled their eyes at Minerva. Septimia jokingly answered an unasked question, “Yes, she’s always been mad, you just didn’t notice when you were a student.” 

The door opened as they chuckled at that, Minerva just shook her head. Hagrid, who Minerva had expected to be late, ducked under the door frame and jovially said, “I’m not the last un in? Doin’ a’right then.” He took the largest chair at the table, which was very obviously reserved for him.

Charlie smiled walking in, casually saying, “Hi-ya, you old fogies.” Before asking the three at the top of the table, “How was the ministry?”

But before any of them could answer (And report that they had seen his father, who said to tell Charlie to behave himself,) Charlie caught sight of Astoria and his jaw dropped. “Hold on, another young person?!?” He looked elated, “I’m not alone!”

The elders didn’t seem to mind this, in fact it appeared they had expected it. Astoria decided to get in on the fun, “Merlin, I thought I was gonna be the youngest not-student here for a whole year, what a relief.”

“You’re telling me,” Charlie said with a grin, looking for the other’s reaction, “I mean, I thought I was gonna be at the receiving end of all the kid treatment, but there’s somebody to split it with now!”   

Filius’s bad mood seemed much improved, and he chuckled and said, “Oh, we have enough for both of you… and all of our students.” 

Charlie and Astoria turned back to each other and shrugged. “Someone to complain with anyway,” Astoria said.

“And we’re gonna have a lot to complain about, I know,” Charlie said, smiling mischievously, “I mean, this lot is old enough to make jazz look like the cutting edge of music.”

“Hey now,” Septimia began, laughing.

“Old enough to remember apparating off the Titanic,” Astoria joked, shocking half of them with her dark humour.

“Hold on there,” Pomona said, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

Charlie did not hold on, “Old enough to have taken cocaine for a cough medicine.” 

“Oh, come now,” Filius said with a chuckle. 

That didn’t stop Astoria, “Old enough to remember the first journey from Platform nine and three-quarters.” (For those who don’t know that was in 1852)

“Oh. Really?” Aurora questioned their behaviour.

“Old enough to remember the invention of the steam train,” (1804) Charlie went on, failing to keep a straight face.

“Old enough to remember the time that the American Wix world was exposed,” Astoria challenged. Inadvertently they were impressing Professor Binns, who had floated up through the floor at the beginning of this exchange, with what they remembered of the history of magic. (For those who weren’t paying attention in History of Magic, that exposure happened in 1789)

Charlie carried on, wondering how far they could go back before they really got stopped. “Old enough to remember the founding of the Ministry.” (1707)

“Hold up now,” Rolanda laughed.

“Old enough to have been reading about the Salem Witch Trials in the Daily Prophet.” (1692) Astoria said, though she wondered when they were going to reach a bridge too far.

The chastisements were dropping off now, and they realised they were probably getting close to being stopped. 

Charlie got another in though, “Old enough to have been waving goodbye to Isolt Sayre on the Mayflower.” (Isolt Sayre was a witch who left England for what would become the U.S. in 1620)

“Old enough to have met Sir Nicholas when he was still alive,”(before 1492) Astoria went again, wondering how they were going to get back at them.

“Old enough to have opened the first accounts at Gringotts,” (1474) Charlie shot back, not looking around the table any more.

“Old enough to remember the invention of the Golden Snitch,” (1422) Astoria challenged him again. 

“Old enough to have heard a reading by Beedle the Bard,” (before 1422) Charlie fired off again.

“Old enough to have met Wendelin the Weird,” (1300s ish. In case you don’t recall from class, Wendelin the Weird was burned as a witch 47 different times, in various disguises, escaping each one.)

“Old enough to remember the first Tri-wizard tournament,” (1294) Charlie said, reaching now.

“Old enough to have been taught by the founders,” (circa 990) Astoria said, taking a big jump back in history.

“Are you quite finished?” Minerva asked, effectively ending the game with her tone.

“Yes, professor.” The two of them answered with faux innocent smiles.

Minerva turned to the rest of the gathered professors, looking at them appraisingly for a moment and said drily, “Well, at least we all look good for our age,” To the amusement of the rest of the room.

Professors Inglethorp and Slughorn appeared then. “So sorry we’re late, stairs, you know,” Horace complained, collapsing into what used to be Severus’s chair, but Minerva didn’t complain this time. 

“I don’t know how you all do it,” Adamatina said, taking the seat between Poppy and Pomona.

Minerva smirked, “I don’t anymore.” Which earned her annoyed sounds from the rest of the assembled gathering.

“No need to brag, Minnie,” Charlie chastised, finally sitting down between Flitwick and Astoria. He turned to her and said, “You’ll find she does that a lot. I think the passing years have taken her filter along with them.” He was obviously lying because he’d never met someone who had more reason to brag and didn’t than Minerva. “Honestly, the whole lot of them are nearly insufferable.” 

“I haven’t even been here for 48 hours and I got the same impression,” Astoria answered, melodramatically shaking her head. “You and I are gonna have to stick together.” 

“If you two don’t behave I will separate you,” Minerva said, making the same threats she made to chatty students in classes.

The two of them snapped to face front, sat up straight, and folded their hands on the table. “Yes, Professor.” 

“Oh dear Merlin, they have the same sense of humour,” Pomona complained, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“This is going to be hell,” Aurora intoned from down the table.

“Unbearable, the ageism we’re in for,” Poppy laughed.

“Maybe if you weren’t ageist against us it could be different,” Charlie said in their defense as Professor Trelawney slipped into the room with a muttered excuse.

“We’re not ageist against you,” Septimia said, pretending to be shocked. “I mean, really young man, how could you imagine that?” She asked condescendingly.

“You just did it,” Astoria exclaimed, laughingly. 

“You treat us like kids, we’re fully grown adults.”

“That’s not ageism,” Minerva said dismissively, with a smirking expression playing across her face.

“How is that not ageism?” Charlie asked, knowing he had to set her up for whatever joke she so clearly wanted to get in.

“Because I’m older than you, and I make the rules,” Minerva answered with a smirk as Filch and Pince finally arrived.

“Wait, doesn’t that mean I make the rules?” Adamatina challenged, raising an eyebrow and looking at Minerva over her spectacles. 

The setup was too good, Minerva followed through, “Heavens no, you’re far too old to be in charge.” 

That joke set Adamatina back in her chair laughing, “Good, I’d hate to have your problems.” 

“You and everyone else,” Minerva said with a sigh, “And now that we’ve established who’s in charge, and now that everyone has finally made it, we can get started.” It was a 4:23 start to their 4:00 meeting, but at least they were having fun.